


Mystery Of the Nibim Sphere

by KaseyBeth



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Peter is salty sometimes, Posted on ff.net, Sorry for spelling or grammar errors, Yondu was a questionable parent, cursing, some chapters are short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaseyBeth/pseuds/KaseyBeth
Summary: This was supposed to be an easy mission, it wasn't supposed to go this way... then again, nothing really went the way it was supposed to for Peter.





	1. An Easy Mission...

_Fuck._ This was the first thought that crossed his mind as he ran through the streets of Elderon. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_ He slid to a stop in front of one of the torn down houses and spun around to face the guards. The blue snow was beginning to soak through his clothes now, and he shivered, wincing slightly as his hand cupped his side. Yondu was going to kill him, and then eat him… maybe not even in that order.

Peter groaned loudly, turning to his left, looking for a way out. He heard static shift through his communicator and smacked his hand against the device, hoping to mute it. He ran to the left, pulling his hand in front of him to see red sticky liquid running down it. Yep, Yondu was definitely going to kill him!

“Boy! Where you at?” Yondu yelled through the communicator. Peter shivered, sucking in a harsh breath, “Not now, you big doofus!”

“Not now? What the hell kinda trouble you get yourself into now Quill!” Yondu shouted. Peter looked down at the object grasped in his left hand, feeling it burning against his flesh. The left sleeve of his jacket was missing due to some trouble he had retrieving the priceless object. This was supposed to be an easy mission, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. He grasped the object tighter, feeling the spikes piercing his hand, and looked up just in time to smack into the wall in front of him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

“Quill! You answer me now boy!” Yondu yelled. Peter groaned loudly as he opened his eyes to the purple sky above him. He wasn’t really sure how long he’d been lying there but judging by the dampness of his clothes and chaotic shouting from Yondu, he assumed it’d been a while. He sat up slowly, putting his hand to his head and blinked a couple times trying to clear his vision. He cleared his throat, looking down at the blue flakes that had begun to bury his boots and swallowed, feeling a wave of nausea coursing up his throat.

“Quill!” Yondu shouted again. Peter shuddered, he was pretty sure if Yondu could reach through the communicator and strangle him, he would. He took a shallow breath, and reached slowly for the button on his communicator. He heard a crunch and looked up dizzily to find two guards standing above him. Someone pointed a sword at his neck and he felt the tip dig into his flesh. He slowly moved his left hand, grasping the stolen object, placing it in his boot.

He swallowed again as his stomach threatened to rebel against him. One of the guards stepped forward, grabbing his arms harshly, forcing him to his feet. His world swayed again, and Peter pushed the button on his communicator, bringing it to his mouth slowly, “Y-yondu, I really fucked up this time.” He said, trying to clear his throat, trying to sound confident.  
Someone yanked the communicator from his hand harshly. He looked down to see the black metal sticking out from the blue slush, and smiled softly when Yondu’s angry voice echoed from the small device.

“What the hell you mean you fucked up boy! Where are you!”

One of the guards grabbed Peter’s face, yanking it upward until he was staring face to face with the green monster in front of him. Peter laughed softly, hearing angry threats spewing from the communicator, his vision swaying viciously. The monster dug his nails into the bottom of Peter’s chin, “What’s so funny earthling?”

Peter felt his stomach lurch, the monster letting go as Peter’s stomach betrayed him. He coughed a few times, trying his best to keep his composer as one of the guards tightened their grip around his arm. He winced loudly, feeling his knees buckle, and looked up to see a double image of the monster standing in front of him. He laughed again as someone smashed the communicator in the blue snow. Peter felt the sword pricking his neck again, sliding down his chest, digging into the flesh.

“I’ll ask you again boy, what’s so funny?” The monster growled.

Peter bit his lip, feeling his body shaking, and his vision fading, “You’re all fucked.” He tried his best to mask a serious face but all that he could manage was a lopsided grin. Yondu might want to kill Peter half the time, threaten to eat him 24/7, and swear up and down that he would drop him off at the next planet if he didn’t behave… but if there was one thing Peter definitely knew about that blue smurf, it was this- Yondu would tear this whole damn planet apart in order to find him. Peter felt the sword pierce his chest. Then his vision went black.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

The 17-year-old groaned loudly as he came too. He realized as he opened his eyes, that he was lying on the cold metal ground in one of the dark cells on Elderon, and groaned again as he forced himself to stand. He stumbled several times, grasping onto the metal bars in front of him, hoping the ground would stop spinning beneath him. He coughed loudly, looking down to see dried blood covering his chest. The wound was small, this was good.

Peter looked around slowly, wincing as a bright light flickered on in front of him. He heard clanging echoing around him, and squinted, trying to peer through the hellish light. Where the hell was he? He saw a blue mass somewhere in the distance and felt a smirk form across his face.

“Yondu? It’s about damn time you showed up, you big idiot!” He yelled loudly. He looked up as the spotlight wavered, and a second spotlight was cast on the blue thing in front of him. Peter felt a chill run down his spine, and backed away from the bars slowly. That wasn’t Yondu. It wasn’t even close. He swallowed loudly, running his hands over his jacket and pants pockets, hoping to find the gun he had earlier. He cursed loudly, realizing he didn’t have a weapon on him.

“Prisioner!” Someone yelled over the intercom, and Peter winced, slamming his hands against his ears, hoping to block out the loud noise, “For your crimes you are here by sentenced to face Chulyuhea in mortal combat. If you win then you will be freed, requested from our highest authority. If you lose you will be put to death, assuming that is, that you fail to die during battle.”

“What!” Peter shouted, feeling panic coursing through his veins as he glanced at the blue monster in front of him. It resembled that of a huge rat, except it had wings and black venom that leaked from its crooked mouth. It let out a loud roar and Peter looked back up towards the light, “How the hell am I supposed to fight that monstrosity without a weapon?”  
“Don’t worry, there are weapons… you just have to get to them first.” Someone yelled through the intercom. Suddenly light flooded the arena and Peter blinked again as cheers and claps echoed from the crowd around him. He looked up, seeing a sword sticking up from one of the rocks next to the blue beast.

“Yeah thanks, helping a bunch here!” He yelled loudly, throwing his middle finger in the air as the crowd booed. Where the fuck was Yondu? Peter heard a loud screech echo through the building as the ceiling opened, revealing the purple sky above them. Blue snow began to trickle in, followed by a loud boom as lightening lit up the sky. Rain began to fall from the purple mass, smacking Peter in the hand. He grit his teeth as smoke rose from the spot where the water had hit him, and a small burning sensation coursed through his body. Great, acid rain, just what he needed.

There was a loud groan as the metal cage around him rose slowly. Peter crouched down, fumbling with his boots, grasping the small spiky object he had stolen earlier. He felt the spikes digging into his flesh again and felt the metal beginning to burn against his hand. He gripped it tighter, watching the red button beginning to glow, stopping himself from pushing it. Not yet, he thought. He might not know what the hell he held in his hand, but it was something they were scared of, something these aliens didn’t want him to steal, something Yondu wanted. And if Yondu wanted it, it must have been important. He didn’t know what the object gripped in his hand could do, but if it could help him escape, it was worth using.

He held his breath as the blue monster’s cage rose slowly. The acidic rain burned against his skin and he cursed loudly as the metal object in his hand dug beneath his flesh. He looked down to see blood dripping from his hand, and watched as the spikes dug through his palm. Burn marks were beginning to litter his jacket and shirt as the acidic water ate through his clothes. He turned back towards the monster in front of him and waited for the horn to go off. This was definitely not how this mission was supposed to go.

A loud buzzer went off and Peter ran towards the rock formation in the middle. He winced as the monster growled, shaking the whole arena. He gulped loudly and peered around the rock, searching for the blue mass. Something sharp collided with his shoulder and he let out a loud cry, placing his hand over the scorched material. He pulled his hand back to reveal burned flesh, and blood soaking into his gray shirt. The shoulder of his jacket had been burned off.

He dodged something to his left and looked to see the rock behind him glowing, blackened scorch marks visible in the tanned stone. They were firing at him. Great. Something smacked into his side, flinging him across the arena, into another rock formation. His face collided with the dirt harshly and he groaned loudly, pushing himself to his knees. He sucked in a harsh breath, trying to force oxygen into his lungs. The blue monster stood across from him, swinging its tail, knocking over the spot he had been hiding. He’d momentarily forgotten about that thing. He winced loudly as he forced himself to his feet, grabbing his side, pulling his hand back to reveal blood from the wound he’d received earlier that night. He looked up, wishing the rain would stop because it wasn’t helping the wound on his shoulder.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and stood firmly against the ground, waiting for the monster to charge towards him. He felt something slice through his right leg, and looked up toward the direction it had come, “Come on man! Give a guy a break, asshole!” He shouted angrily. He heard a loud roar and looked up at the purple sky, seeing a ship coming into view. He recognized the angry groaning of the thrusters and laughed loudly realizing Yondu had finally found him. Took you long enough, doofus, he thought.  
Peter screamed loudly, dropping to his knees as something ripped through his arm. He looked down to see the small metal object eating away at the skin on his arm and watched as the angry spikes wound around it tightly. Red lights burned against his arm and blood dripped along the metal vines. He heard a loud roar and looked up to see the blue monster charging towards him. He stood on shaky legs, forcing himself to stand as his vision blurred for a second.

Sand, blue snow, and acid rain whipped around him as Yondu’s ship broke the atmosphere. He heard screams and shouts echoing from the crowd around him and he gripped the object tighter, pressing the core into his bloody palm, letting it eat away at his flesh, biting back a scream. The blue monster was only a few feet from him now and Peter felt his fingers hovering over the glowing button, waiting anxiously to push it. _Let it get closer. Let it get closer._

He waited until it was a few inches from his face, not taking his eyes off it. He let out a loud breath, and smirked, wiping away some blood and dirt that clung to his face. _I hope this works,_ he thought. He pushed the button, feeling pain course through his body, letting out a loud scream as he dropped to his knees again. He felt like his body was ripping itself apart, and felt the object clawing at his flesh, tearing it from his bones, piece by piece. He gripped it tighter, tears flooding down his face as crimson light flashed in front of him and something exploded in his hand.

He looked over to see red light glowing beneath his skin. He tried ripping the metal object away from his palm but the thing had burrowed itself under his skin, clinging to the bones in his hand. Pain laced his veins, and Peter screamed again. His vision faded to black momentarily and something hard smacked his chest. He heard the monster screaming and people shouting loudly around him, before silence took over. He wasn’t really sure if he had lost his hearing or if everything around him had disappeared. He felt his body sway and his vision returned slowly to reveal a grayish blur. Water washed over him and dripped down his dirt covered face, as he looked around. He blinked a couple times, trying to clear his vision as colors slowly began to return to the objects around him. Flames coated the ground, burn marks littered the stands. The monster was gone, and so were most of the people. He saw something red zoom across his face and looked up to see Yondu on the other side of the arena. He felt his body sway again as a small smile broke out across his face.

He smacked against the ground, his body unable to move. Darkness was beginning to cloud his vision again and he blinked a few times, trying to clear his mind. He wasn’t sure what happened. All he knew was pain had enveloped his body. He looked at his arm outstretched in front of him, seeing bloody marks etched into the skin. The small object was resting against his palm now, all the spikes had disappeared and Peter wondered for a second if he had imagined it.

He let out a shaky breath, breathing in dirt, choking as it clogged his aching lungs. He blinked again, seeing black boots smash against the shaking ground, and smiled weakly as Yondu’s face wavered in front of his vision. He wanted to know why Yondu was here. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why his body was on fire. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a loud cough as he struggled to take in oxygen.

He felt something wet coating his arms and groaned loudly as his world flipped. Suddenly he was staring at the purple sky above him, watching something red zipping around him chaotically. What the fuck was that? He couldn’t think. He couldn’t concentrate. His body hurt too much. He felt something slap his face, and blinked a few times as Yondu’s face came back into focus. His eyebrows scrunched together as he watched Yondu’s lips moving, but he as too tired to make out what they were saying. He coughed again as his vision faded and the purple sky above him turned to black.

…………………………………………………………………….

“You have to be strong baby,” his mother said softly. Peter was sitting on the couch, watching for the millionth time as his grandfather helped his mother up from the table, walking her towards the door gently. He wiped at the tears that spilled down his face, grasping at the bookbag in his hand.

“Mom, I don’t want to be strong. I just want you to get better,” He whined, getting up from the couch and walking towards his mom. His grandmother grabbed his arm, digging her fingernails into his skin, forcing him to stop, a few feet away from his mom. He looked up to see his mother smiling warmly, “I will baby. But for now, you need to be strong, just like your daddy.”

He stood there in the doorway, watching as his grandfather drove away, his mom sitting weakly in the passenger seat. Rain was beginning to fall overhead, and lightening lit up the evening sky. He yanked free from his grandmother’s grasp and ran out into the rain after the blue car. He tripped over something sticking out of the ground and fell to his knees, digging his fingers in the dirt as he continued to cry. Please come back, he thought.  
……………………………………………………………………..

“I knew you were stupid boy, but I didn’t think you was that stupid!”

This was the first thing Peter heard when he jerked awake. He opened his eyes to stare at the metal ceiling of Yondu’s ship. He swallowed loudly, looking over to see the Captain leaning against the door of his bedroom. He groaned, coughing as the rough air hit his dry throat and winced as pain shot through his head.

“Well if you didn’t move like an old woman, I wouldn’t have to be reckless,” he retorted softly, running a hand through his hair. He rubbed the side of his face, closing his eyes briefly, trying to remember what happened. He didn’t remember much… just pain.

“I said you was stupid boy, but now that you mention it, you’re reckless too. You know how long it took for me to carry your sorry ass back to the ship. Kraglin wanted to leave you, and I had half a mind to listen to him. The thing could have killed you!” Yondu said, stepping closer, and shutting the door behind him. He pulled a chair next to the small cot and put his boots on the bed.

Peter opened his eyes again, staring at the water forming on the ceiling. _Thing. What thing? It could have killed you. What could- the object!_ Peter shot up quickly, wincing loudly as his world swayed. He gripped his arm tightly and looked down to see the object had disappeared. Small scars littered his arm and a bandage was wrapped tightly around his hand. He felt panic course through his body and found it difficult to breath. What was that thing? Where was it? Was it buried beneath his flesh? He began to unwrap the white bandage viciously, when a blue hand gripped his.

“Peter, stop that,” Yondu said softly. Peter turned to face Yondu, a bewildered look plastered to his face. He opened his mouth to speak as Yondu leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. Yondu let out a loud sigh, “By the time I found you, the thing had already returned to its natural form. I’d never seen anyone stupid enough to use it, so you lucky you didn’t die.”

Peter ran a shaky hair through his hair, resting his hand gently on his bandaged ribs, “Where is it?”

“Somewhere safe,” Yondu said, getting up, throwing the chair back in the dark corner.

“What was it?”

Yondu stopped at the door, letting his hand hover above the button. He turned around to face the teenager. Peter looked so lost, something Yondu hated seeing, something Yondu had only seen twice. Normally the kid was annoying the crap out of the crew, accepting dangerous missions, doing anything and everything to prove to them that he was one of them. He regretted sending Peter on that mission. He hadn’t known the object he’d sent him after was dangerous, and he hadn’t known what it could do. He grit his teeth, feeling rage course through his body. His crew were waiting for him and he couldn’t spend the whole damn night watching the boy; they’d think he’d gone soft. It’s not like he really cared if the kid died.

“Never mind that, boy,” Yondu said, “get your ass dressed and find something useful to occupy yourself with! Do you know how much damage your little show did to my ship?”

Peter groaned, slamming back against the hard pillow beneath him, “God Yondu, why couldn’t you’ve just left me there?”

Yondu stepped out into the hallway, “Then what was I gunna do if we run out of food, huh? 5 minutes boy!” He heard the teenager curse loudly as he slammed the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!!!  
> Sorry this is so short! I will try to update a longer chapter soon!!!!  
> KB

Pain. This was the first thing Peter registered. Burning, searing, blinding pain ripping through his arm, tearing the flesh from his bones, strip by strip. He shot up quickly, dropping to his knees, letting out a loud cry as he stole a glimpse towards his right shoulder. Angry metal vines protruded from the small cuts that littered his arm, wrapping around the raw flesh, digging beneath the epidermis, melting from his skin. He felt his bones breaking and shifting, making room for the object he had been holding, replacing bones with metal as the spikes crawled up his shoulder, piercing his collarbone, grasping onto his spinal cord.

He screamed loudly as the flesh on his hand ripped off, lying bloodied on the floor, as blue metal thorns pushed beneath his fingers, forcing his nails from their cuticles. He screamed again, yelling for Yondu, yelling for someone, anyone to help him, to save him. Tears rolled down his face as blood spewed from his mouth, metal vines forcing their way up his throat, rubbing against raw flesh, clamping down on his gums. Breathing became difficult, yelling became difficult, and through all the pain, Peter vaguely wondered if this is how he would die.

He fell against the ground harshly, smacking his face against the unforgiving metal, his limbs no longer belonging to him but to the metal thing inside him. He coughed again, feeling the metal vine tunneling towards his brain, blood pooling from his nose and mouth as air slowly stopped flowing into his lungs.

The teenager blinked several times as his vision faded, painfully aware of the red light burning against the white bone of his hand, blinking murderously. He wheezed loudly, feeling a burning settle in his chest as his lungs ached for the oxygen they so desperately needed. He rolled to his side, inching his fingers towards the button burrowed in his hand, as pain shot through his body, as the room spun, as his mind went black.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

 _It was just a dream._ Peter opened his eyes slowly as his small damp barrack came into a spinning view. He breathed deeply as his eyes burned against the florescent lights hanging above him, and groaned loudly as he realized he was drooling. _Where was he? What happened?_

The 17-year-old blinked sluggishly as his vision blurred momentarily before coming back in a painfully sharp clarity. He groaned again as he realized he was lying on the floor, his blanket tangled in his legs, his right cheek pressed against the solid ground. Peter moved his arms, scraping his hands against the rough metal as he pushed his aching body off the cool surface. He pressed his back against the metal bedframe and ran a shaky hand through his hair, feeling a chill run down his spine as his eyes connected with the blood stains coating his right sleeve. He shivered, pulling his sleeve up slowly, revealing several deep scratch marks, digging into the tiny cuts that had littered his arm no less than a week ago. He bit back a wince, pressing his fingers against the marks, digging his fingers into one of the tiny cuts, realizing there was no metal lying beneath his skin. He sighed loudly. _It was just a dream._

He pushed himself off the floor, steadying himself against the ship’s wall as the small barrack spun viciously. His shoulder slammed against the wall harshly as pain laced down his neck and spine, and Peter bit his lip, waiting for the dizziness to pass. He coughed loudly feeling itching in the back of his throat and groaned inwardly as the notion of him coming down with something crossed his mind. There was no way in hell he was getting sick… especially since Yondu still hadn’t gotten off his case about almost destroying his ship last week.

Peter flexed his fingers and opened his eyes slowly, thankful the room had stopped spinning. He pulled his shirt over his head quickly and grabbed a different one that had been lying in the corner of his room for several weeks. He brought it to his nose, sniffing slightly, relieved to find that it didn’t still reek of Venkitorian guts, and pulled it over his head, groaning slightly, realizing it was inside out.

“Fuck it,” he said softly, stuffing his boots on his feet roughly, grabbing his Walkman. He shoved the headphones on his head and stood silently in the middle of the room, deciding if he could get away with a few more extra minutes of sleep. He heard someone slam on his door before the rusty metal slab slide open, revealing Kaglin’s tired face.

“Kid. Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” he said slowly.

Peter groaned loudly, sliding his headphones down gently so they rested against his neck. His fingers dusted over something on the back of his neck and Peter felt the yellow Walkman drop from his hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Peter’s breathing hitched slightly as his fingers swept over something hard lying beneath the skin. He pressed his fingers gently against the object, wincing as pain coursed through his body weakly, yanking his fingers away quickly. His stomach turned violently, and he swallowed compulsively, wondering if he was going to throw up. _It’s not real. It’s not real. It was just a dream._

Kraglin opened the door a little further, stepping forward, worry masking his features as he raised an eyebrow, “Hey kid. You alright?”

Peter slowly raised his hand again, pressing his fingers against the back of his neck harshly. He breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers met soft warm flesh, and he rubbed the back of his neck gently. _God, you need some sleep,_ he thought.

“Peter?” Kraglin asked softly. Peter glanced up at Kraglin, nodding gently before bending down to pick up the old music device from the floor. He inspected it carefully, pressing play for a second, making sure it wasn’t broken. He wasn’t really sure what he would do if it was. Kraglin crossed his arms, “Well like I said, Captain’s lookin’ for ya.”

Peter nodded again, placing the Walkman in his pocket before looking back up at Kraglin. Despite being only 6 years older than Peter, Kraglin could probably pass for his father. The 23-year-old had graying hair and a sunken face complete with dark bags that made him look like he was in his 30s or 40s. According to Kraglin, being a Ravager will do that to you, considering he had joined Yondu’s crew based on some mixed-up story involving Yondu saving his ass. Peter never really knew the whole story; he had heard so many different versions from the entire crew that it was hard to tell fact from fiction. Peter cleared his throat, “You couldn’t have told him I was dead?”

Kraglin shrugged. Peter reached for his helmet sitting on the chair in the corner, placing the tiny device behind his ear, and turned to walk out the door, “You know, one-day Kraglin, I’m going to steal one of his M-ships and leave this hellhole.”

“Uh-huh,” Kraglin responded, closing the metal door behind him, cringing as the metal hinges squealed loudly, “Hey, you know your shirt’s inside out?”

Peter groaned, “It’s a new shirt!” Confusion etched across Kraglin’s face as he adjusted his red leather jacket, “Your telling me that that ain’t your Pink Floyd shirt we picked up on Altea? The one that was covered in Venkitorian blood and vomit?”

“It’s inside out,” Peter grumbled, “So it technically makes it a new shirt!” ………………………………………………………………………………….


End file.
